


lovely bitter water

by ravenditefairylights



Series: noldolantë [10]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Birthday Party, Canon Compliant, Children, Cousins, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Gap Filler, Gen, Hair Braiding, I MEAN TECHNICALLY, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28894767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenditefairylights/pseuds/ravenditefairylights
Summary: Celegorm and his family visit Nagorthrond on Finrod's begetting day. The plan (Finrod's idea) is to get drunk and break something, so they can all have fun, despite the ache of Haleth's death that makes Caranthir even moodier than usual. Not everyone, however, is committed to just having a good time, and not a soul in this party knows quite how Finrod ended up bouncing a toddler on his lap and braiding her hair.
Relationships: Celegorm | Turcafinwë/Original Female Character, Past Caranthir | Morifinwë/Haleth of the Haladin
Series: noldolantë [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122167
Comments: 11
Kudos: 15





	lovely bitter water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KTheKryptid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KTheKryptid/gifts).



> title is from [bitter water](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nO1jCiAwIX4) by the oh hellos
> 
> \- [elenya - alyanárë](https://feanoriansappreciation.tumblr.com/post/631759864639668224/finweanladiesweek-day-6-original-characters) is my oc daughter of celegorm and aldana is her mom (and celegorm's wife from an arranged marriage)  
> \- this is set somewhere during F.A. 420, some time after haleth's death  
> \- eldalótë = edhellos; she's angrod's wife
> 
> huge thanks to [monica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticlove/pseuds/theoreticlove) for being a lifesaver and beta reading this and being wholesome when i just wanted to backspace the whole word doc. it had so many mistakes like i swear i know how to grammar. she can spell nargothrond correctly on the first try and i fear her (ily monica)

The reception hall is beautiful, just like the rest of the city. The floors are polished, there are decorations hanging over the walls and the doors, over the railings on the staircase leading to different rooms. The walls are decorated with lavish tapestries, beautiful paintings, golden ornaments, silk curtains and so on. It is flawless.

Hardly a surprise, Celegorm thinks wryly. Finrod has always had a very good sense of fashion.

The whole city of Nargothrond is designed in what his brother Curufin had described as ‘ingenious architecture’, which was a lot coming from him. Curufin did not usually give compliments easily to things he had not made himself; and such was the case here, since Finrod had asked Curufin—and Celebrimbor, the boy had been more than excited—to oversee a great deal of the architecture designs. Had Curufin not contributed to this, perhaps he would limit his description of Nargothrond to ‘aesthetically satisfying’.

Either way, it looked very pretty and was very consistent with Finrod’s vibes. Celegorm, personally, did not care about the architecture, rather—he cared only that the architecture was putting that look of awe on his daughter’s face.

Elenya, the daughter Celegorm has only had for four years now and whom he already cannot imagine his life without, is trotting obediently next to her parents, holding her mother’s hand and looking at the halls with starry eyes. With big eyes trained on the fancy food and clothes, Elenya sticks her thumb into her mouth and chews.

“No!” Aldana scolds, slapping her hand away. “How many times do I have to say? You don’t eat that!”

Elenya looks down, frowning, and Celegorm waits until she looks up again to make a funny face at her. Elenya stifles her giggles behind her hand.

“Cousin!” somebody calls, and Celegorm turns to see Angrod walking towards him, a glass of what is surely an alcoholic drink raised up high. Angrod can’t be further than ten steps away from them, and yet he manages to trip over his own feet at least three times. “You made it!”

“I’m not that late,” Celegorm grumbles. “Are you already drunk? Where’s your wife? Why isn’t she scolding you?”

“Eldalótë is over there,” Angrod says, waving his free hand around the vague direction of the whole party. Celegorm rolls his eyes; Angrod doesn’t get drunk very often, but there’s a reason Edhellos should be around him when he is. She’s eighty percent of his self-control when he’s sober—ninety percent when he’s drunk. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” Celegorm asks. Angrod looks excited enough that it wouldn’t matter even if Celegorm hadn’t asked, he’d tell him either way. “I only just arrived.”

“Finrod is naming Orodreth as his heir!” Angrod says. His grin is too large to be contained by his face. “My son! He’s making my Orodreth his heir.”

“That’s excellent news,” Celegorm—who has been subject to one of Maedhros’s speeches about how Finrod is definitely going to announce just that today—says. He tries to sound cheery and feels like it might fall a little short, but Angrod has enough cheer for both of them.

“My son!” he cries. “A future king of Nargothrond!”

“Congratulations,” Celegorm smiles at him. “Speaking of your brother—have you seen him? I promised Alyanárë that I would introduce her to uncle Finrod.”

“Oh, your daughter?” Angrod says, still extremely excited. “She must be so small! How old is she—four, right? She must be tiny!”

“Yes,” Celegorm says. “She’s right over—” he trails off. Aldana and Elenya are not next to him anymore. He scans the crowd quickly, once, but he can’t find them. “Somewhere around here,” he ends up saying. Angrod nods at him, like he understands him perfectly.

“Can’t have gotten far!” he laughs and pats Celegorm on the back. Angrod attempts to take another sip of wine and ends up almost throwing it on his hair. Celegorm is reminded, as he takes the glass from his hand before he can hurt himself, why Angrod should not drink without supervision.

“I’m going to find your brother,” Celegorm tells him, and finds a part of humans wearing colours of alliance with the sons of Finarfin. “Hey, can you watch him for a moment?” Celegorm asks and throws Angrod at them without waiting for an answer. “His wife should come looking for him.” He pats Angrod’s shoulder. “Good talk,” he calls, and then turns to leave.

The hall is annoyingly vast, and what is more annoying is that this fact can’t be appreciated because it’s so entirely packed with people that it might as well have been tiny for all it feels like. Celegorm doesn’t try to find Aldana in this crowd—someone who knows her will find it fit to tell him where she is at some point. As long as she lets Elenya have some fun, it’ll be fine.

“Why are you wandering around like a ghost?” Celegorm rolls his eyes at Curufin’s judging voice.

“I’m looking for the drinks,” Celegorm turns to his brother. “And ideally Finrod, but I can wait. Hi, Tyelpë.”

“Hi, uncle Tyelko,” Celebrimbor says, raising his own foamy drink in a toast. “The drinks are somewhere on the left. There are some people wandering around holding a bunch of them, you should ask.”

“He shouldn’t drink,” Curufin says, raising a brow at him. Celegorm snorts.

“Aren’t _you_ drinking, Curvo?”

“I don’t get drunk,” Curufin says, which isn’t really something that Celegorm can disagree with, since it’s objectively true. Curufin was just of age when he got drunk for the first time, and he hated so much that he’s never drunk more than half a glass of anything since.

“Where’s Moryo?” Celegorm asks, so he doesn’t have to admit that his little brother is right. “I think he should definitely be kept far from the drinks.”

“I don’t think uncle Moryo is going to get drunk at uncle Finrod’s begetting day party,” Celebrimbor says with a small frown. “Uncle Nelyo has probably given him the ‘I won’t be mad I’ll just be disappointed’ speech at least three times by now.”

“You have too much faith in your uncle Moryo,” Celegorm says. “One of his maids had to write Nelyo a letter to tell him—in the politest way possible, can you imagine—that Haleth is dead and Lord Caranthir got so drunk when he learned it, he passed out for a day and a half.”

“It’s never a bad idea to be cautious,” Curufin says neutrally, “but I think Finrod introduced him to some dwarves before, so if they get drunk, it’ll be a team effort.”

“How hopeful of you,” Celegorm says dryly. “Have you guys seen Finrod anywhere? I promised Alya that she’d get to meet him.”

“Who did you leave Alyanárë with then?” Curufin asks.

“She’s here with Aldana somewhere,” Celegorm says. “I’ll find them at some point, won’t I?” Curufin and Celebrimbor exchange a glance of flawless verbal communication that makes Celegorm uneasy. It looks like they’re debated whether or not to tell him something. “What?” he demands.

“Where is Alyanárë?” Curufin asks again. “Because we just passed Aldana before—I didn’t cause a fight, please, unlike you, I _do_ have tact—and Alyanárë wasn’t with her.”

Celegorm freezes. “What do you mean Alyanárë wasn’t with her?” he demands. “Where else would she be?”

Curufin shrugs. “You know how highly I think of Aldana,” he says sarcastically.

“Dad, you hate her guts,” Celebrimbor points out.

“Exactly,” Curufin says. “She’s not good enough for your uncle. And she never pays attention to Alyanárë—couldn’t even notice the kid run off.”

“I’ll go ask uncle Nelyo if he saw her,” Celebrimbor says. “Uncle Nelyo sees everything.”

“Your uncle Nelyo is probably making out with the Fingon in a room somewhere,” Curufin mutters, but Celebrimbor is already walking away. Curufin turns to him. “You already know what I think about your wife,” he says, “so I won’t repeat it. But I want you to know the sentiment is there.”

“Noted,” Celegorm snaps, far too angry and far too worried all of a sudden to deal with him. “Where’s Aldana?”

“Go right that way, can’t miss her,” Curufin says, pointing with his finger, and Celegorm stalks off.

Aldana is standing around with a group of Sindarin elves, holding a glass of wine and looking entirely unconcerned about the fact that Elenya is not holding her hand anymore. Elenya could have just been passed to someone else; there are, after all, so many relatives here tonight. But Celegorm married this woman, and her track record implies that this is not what happened.

“Hi, Aldana,” Celegorm says, coming to what is considered appropriate distance and smiling, tight-lipped at the other elves. He doesn’t know their names. He couldn’t care less about their names. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks Aldana, who looks like she might say no. Fortunately, the rest of the elves seem to get the hint and walk a little further away. “Where’s Alyanárë?” Celegorm demands.

Aldana shrugs, careless. “How would I know where the little devil is? Somewhere.”

“She was with you,” Celegorm points out. Half of him wants to shake her until she starts caring more about her own daughter, and the other half never wants to see her face again. “What do you mean you don’t know where she is? She’s a child! You can’t just let wander around the place all by herself! We have to find her!”

“If you’re so worried, go find it yourself,” Aldana says. “I don’t see why I should go around looking for that brat. Troublesome thing. It shouldn’t have wandered off.”

“She’s your daughter,” Celegorm says, reminding himself that he can’t murder his wife during his cousin’s party. That would look bad, and it would give Maedhros too much trouble. “You shouldn’t speak about her that way.”

Aldana shrugs again, and Celegorm turns on his heel and marches off, furious. The thing is this was an arranged marriage. They both knew that going in. Thingol not so subtly hinted at it, and Celegorm was the one who offered to do it. He’d left Oromë behind, so he thought he won’t love her. But they could be friends. Celegorm is good at that, making friends. He’d never had a hard time with it—like Caranthir, for example. So, Celegorm tried. Tried too hard, Curufin says.

That wouldn’t necessarily be a problem—trying hard to be friends with your wife—except Aldana didn’t try at all. He thought she did, at first, when it seemed like they could be friends together. Aldana had laughed at his jokes, and accepted his gifts, and agreed to go riding with him in the forests. But then she got pregnant, and by the time Elenya was born, Aldana had stopped trying. She didn’t like Celegorm’s jokes, she didn’t like Celegorm’s gifts, she didn’t like Celegorm coming to see her, she didn’t like spending time with him.

When Elenya had been born, she was tiny. She had been so tiny that she fit whole in Celegorm’s hands. Celegorm barely remembers the time when Celebrimbor had been that small. He had been holding a tiny person that he _made_ in his hands, and Elenya was screaming like a banshee and one of her tiny hands slapped him across the face and Celegorm hasn’t been that happy since. There is nothing in the world more perfect than his daughter.

The healers had tried to make Aldana hold her, but Aldana wouldn’t even look at her newborn daughter. She refused to look at her for days, until the healers had to beg her to feed the baby. Celegorm cannot understand how someone could hate someone so small simply for existing. Someone you _made,_ who depends on you.

He gets a few—okay, more than a few—weird looks as he was hurriedly going around the hall, looking rather frantic. He’s panicking, a little bit. Celegorm is a war strategist. He knows panic gets you killed. Knowing this doesn’t make the situation any better.

He doesn’t know where his daughter is. He _cannot find her._

If there was ever a time to panic, it was now. Celegorm is very tempted to go around shaking people and asking them if they’ve seen a little girl with bright green eyes and messy strawberry blonde hair she absolutely despises having up in a bun, but he refrains. He knows he can be rather aggressive. He doesn’t want to get the ‘I’m not mad I’m just disappointed’ stare that Maedhros has perfected over the years.

Celegorm might be panicking a little more than he should, because he almost passes by Elenya without noticing her. In his defense, Elenya isn’t where he expected her to be. Instead, Celegorm pauses and blinks, needing to make sure that what he’s watching is not a hallucination.

Elenya, in her green and red dress that she picked herself—with Celebrimbor’s help—and her space buns, is sitting on Finrod’s lap next to the bar with the drinks. There are three things wrong with that sight: a) how the fuck has Finrod managed to hide in a corner during his own begetting day party, b) Elenya had her hair braided before they came here, not in space buns, and c) Celegorm might be feeling _a little_ jealous that his daughter is sitting on Finrod’s lap and not his.

“See?” Finrod asks. He sounds giddy, grinning wildly as he lets Elenya inspect her buns on a small pocket mirror. “Doesn’t it look so pretty? I think space buns suit you a lot.”

“Mn,” Elenya agrees. She reaches a hand up to touch the braids, turning her face as she looks into the mirror. “They’re pretty. Do you think daddy will like them?”

“Of course he will! They look so pretty on you!” Finrod says, not unlike an excited puppy. “Do you want me to show you how to make a flower crown? I bet you’d make the best flower crown.”

Elenya frowns. “But we don’t have flowers?”

“Of course we have flowers!” Finrod gasps. “Do you think I would ever live in a place that doesn’t have flowers? Flower crowns are _extremely_ important. Have I ever told you about that time your uncle Moryo and I made flower crowns and we bullied your uncle Curvo into wearing them?”

“No,” Elenya says. “Did you?” she sounds extremely curious.

“Yes!” Finrod says, grinning down at her, and launches into an overly exaggerated story that Celegorm still remembers himself. Curufin had looked very cute and so very angry about it. Elenya is watching Finrod’s retelling with big eyes and rapt attention. She’s fine. She is probably having more fun than he himself will have all night.

Celegorm smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/e_fairylights) and [tumblr](https://feanoriansappreciation.tumblr.com/) if yelling ab elves is something you like to do


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